


Eyes On Fire

by trueamericanwolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Attempted Non Con, Claustrophobia, Gen, Panic Attack, Violence, lots of death, school shooting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-09 19:11:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1994565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trueamericanwolf/pseuds/trueamericanwolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A human au where Matt takes a gun to school to seek his revenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is part 1! There's going to be a second part! I was originally going to post it all at once but to be honest I just want to see what people think about it! Also god bless Amy! She has been my cheerleader and has helped me with editing it and also yelling at me for killing people off lol  
> If anyone does read this, hope you guys like it!

“Scott? Scott, what are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” Scott says, his right leg bouncing up and down with his hands interlocked in his lap.

Ms. Morrell has her hands on her desk, her straight black hair runs down her shoulders. Scott watches as an ant crawls along the white tile floor, probably on a search for food for its’ family, not knowing it can die at any minute.

“We’re going to have to talk about it, Scott.” Her voice is soothing, even if Scott doesn’t want to be in counseling, talking about it, her voice has a way of calming him down. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

“Death.” Scott doesn’t look up, continues to watch the ant make its way across the floor until it reaches the wall. It turns around and starts walking the opposite direction.

“What about death?”

“There’s an ant,” he says, pointing to the black speck moving around. “It’s probably trying to find food. Someone’s going to come along and kill it for no reason other than it’s an ant. I don’t know; it’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, Scott. Finish the thought.”

“It’s just,” he sighs, running his hands through his hair. “Everyone thinks they’re safe, that nothing bad will happen. We’re just ants. We roam around and try to find happiness and love and it can all just be taken away in an instant. The shooting…” Scott falters and his tongue flicks across his bottom lip, a lump forming in his throat. “It happens. I know that. People snap. But the look in his eyes; he didn’t snap. I could see how much pain he had and I tried…” His eyes start to burn and he rubs his fingers roughly across them, clearing his throat. “I tried to help.”

“I know you did, Scott,” Ms. Morell says, “don’t blame yourself.”

“How can I not!” Scott bolts up, moving his jaw from side to side. “I could have done more. I should have done more.”

“You did everything you could.” She stands up and walks over to him, very gently resting her hands on his shoulders.

“No,” he says, pivoting away and walking towards the door. “Times up. I’ll see you next week.”

[3 months ago]

“Scotty!” Stiles says, running up behind Scott and grabbing his shoulders. “How’s it hanging?”

“A little to the left,” Scott says, smirking. “You ready for today?”

“The day in which is technically our last day of classes for junior year? That day? Yeah. You could say I’m ready.”

“So,” Scott says, patting Stiles on the back, “you’re just ready for summer break.”

“Yes!” Stiles exclaims, throwing his hands into the air and spinning around, facing Scott and walking backwards down the hallway. “This whole get Lydia to notice me this year failed and I’m ready for a break. Ready for a summer with you and video games and not worrying about having to put on deodorant to impress a girl.”

“Dude, you’re still going to be putting deodorant on.” Scott shakes his head and they stop at his locker. “I’m not going to smell you all summer.”

“You know you love my smell,” Stiles says, raising his arms and sticking his face into his right armpit, sniffing. “It is a distinct aroma of manliness and butter.”

“I hate you,” Scott says, rolling his eyes. “You’re putting on deodorant, Stiles. Otherwise you’re not coming over my house this summer.”

“As if you could keep me away.” Stiles’ back straightens and his eyes widen. “Dude, Matt.” Scott turns around and sees Matt trudging down the hallway; his hands shoved in his jacket pocket, and his face lowered towards the ground. “Remember last week when he went all crazy at that party and tried to get with Allison? Better watch out, he might come after you and try to fight you for her.”

“Stiles,” Scott deadpans, turning back to face him, “shut up.”

“Speaking of,” Stiles says, winking at Matt as he walks by. “Where is the lovely Allison,” he says, deliberately raising his voice.

“Her and Jackson had swim practice early today. She said something about them needing to get one last practice in before summer.”

“Jackson.” Stiles shudders and scrunches his face. “How can Allison stand to be near him?”

“She isn’t in love with Lydia, so it isn’t a issue,” Scott says, closing his locker and laughing. “Unlike you.”

Stiles almost pouts while giving him a wounded look. “Right in heart, Scotty.”

“You sure that look on your face isn’t from you smelling yourself?”

“Oh wow, I didn’t know this was a comedy show,” Stiles says, glaring at Scott. “I would have remembered to laugh.”

-xxx-

“Can you talk to Lydia for me?” Jackson sits down on the bench in the locker room, Allison is leaning on the locker across from him. “I don’t know how to tell her that I may be moving in the fall.”

“Jackson,” Allison says, shaking her head and sitting down next to him. “You’re going to have to tell her. This isn’t the type of news you have someone else tell for you.”

They both are in their bathing suits; Allison’s hair is wet and tied up in a messy bun and Jackson is shirtless with a towel wrapped around his waist. If someone had told Allison a year ago that her and Jackson Whittemore would be friends, well, she would have laughed in their faces, and yet here they are, friends.

“But you’re her best friend. It’ll be easier for her to hear it from you.”

“You know that’s not true.” Allison pats him on the shoulder and stands up. “I’m gonna go get changed in the girl’s locker room. You should tell her today.”

“How about I’ll tell her the day you can actually swim faster than me?” Jackson has his cocky smirk plastered on his face and Allison rolls her eyes.

She grabs her towel that is hanging off the open locker and wraps it around herself, walking out of the locker room. The girl’s locker room is right across the hallway and as she goes to open up the door she sees someone walking down the hallway. The person is wearing a black jacket with the hood up and one of their hands is shoved in the pocket of the jacket, hand seemingly wrapped around something. There’s a pulling in her stomach that twists into knots because something feels out of place, wrong.

Before she dwells anymore on it, she opens up the door to the locker room and steps in. The locker room is deadly silent and she stands still next to the door, listening to the footsteps as they echo through the downstairs hallway. The door has a small glass pane in the middle and she peeks through, seeing the hooded figure stop in the middle between the two doors before turning to the boy’s locker room.

She hurriedly grabs her clothes out of her locker, grabbing her purple tights and slipping them on, covered by her jean shorts. Once her red striped flannel is on she closes her locker and walks to the door again, peering out to see if the person is still there. No sign.

She cautiously opens the door, turning from side to side to see her surroundings. No one. Allison walks across to the boy’s locker room door and grabs the handle, palms sweaty. Slowly, she turns the handle and cracks the door open, listening.

“Matt, what the hell are you doing in here?” She can hear Jackson say.

Allison opens the door fully and sneaks in, crouching down behind a set of lockers. She peeks around the corner and can see Jackson standing by the showers, a towel tied around him. Matt is standing across from him, his back to Allison.

“Everyone just thinks they can walk all over me,” Matt says, his left hand tapping continuously against the side of his leg. “You always get everything. The money, the girls, the popularity.”

“It’s called being someone,” Jackson says, and Allison can see Matt shaking his head over and over again. “Sorry you’re a fucking loser man.”

“Why Allison?” Matt steps forward and Jackson’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “You already have Lydia. Allison is too good for you, too perfect.”

“Dude,” Jackson says, “she doesn’t like you. Did you not get that memo last week. She thinks you’re a freak, a loser and she would never even consid-”

Before Jackson can even finish his word Matt pulls his right hand out of his jacket pocket and Allison can see that it’s a gun but before she can react there’s a loud pop and Jackson collapses to the floor, blood pouring out of the hole in his forehead.

Allison’s hand immediately covers her mouth and she backs up against the locker, feeling her whole body shake. Tears are falling down her cheeks and she tries her best not to breathe loudly.

“We’ll see about that,” Matt says, and Allison can hear his footsteps leading to the door.

She stays perfectly still, breathing through her nose as the tears stream down her face. It feels like small pins are being pricked all over her skin and she’s dizzy. The door opens and then closes and all Allison can hear is the erratic sound of her heart beating in her chest.

There’s a loud bang from across the hallway and then the slamming of a door; Allison doesn’t move, fear crippling her. Her hands are still covering her mouth and her body is still shaking. She tries to take in deep breaths but she can’t control her breathing.

After a few minutes of steadily breathing in and out, Allison pushes her hands against the locker and stands up on quivering legs. She holds on to the locker and tries to take a step forward, her leg collapsing underneath her.

“Come on Allison,” she says to herself, wiping her eyes. “You’re not weak. Get up and walk out. You need to walk out.” Her eyes are burning as tears fall down her cheeks; she tries once more and manages to take a few more steps, seeing Jackson’s limp body in a pool of blood.

She gasps and covers her mouth again, whiping the tears away and forcing herself to walk on and walk out of the locker room.

-xxx-

Erica is walking down the hallway on her way to class. She has on a black mini leather skirt and a form fitting white tank. Her books are stacked in her hands and she’s rushing down the hallway; the bell already rang and she still has to return the books to the library before the day is over. She knew she shouldn’t have waited till the last day to do it because now the line is most likely going to be extremely long and she’ll end up missing lunch. Procrastination is something she’s working on.

Without looking, Erica turns the corner and crashes into someone’s shoulder, sending all her books toppling down onto the floor.

“Fuck,” she hisses, looking up and seeing Matt standing in front of her. His face is a ghostly white and there are dark circles under his eyes; he looks drawn out. “Oh, Matt. Sorry.”

“Are you?” His voice sends a chill down her spine, cold and hostile. “You know I never did understand why you stopped talking to me? Did you just become too cool to be seen with me?”

“Matt,” she says, crouching down to pick up her books. “We just grew apart. It happens.”

“No,” he says, shaking his head and running one of his hands through his hair. “No. You stopped talking to me, stopped texting, stopped everything. We were friends. We used to eat lunch together all the time.”

“Can we not do this right now?” She grabs the last book off the floor and places it on top of the other ones in her arms. “I’m already late for class.”

Erica starts to walk forward but Matt steps to the side and blocks her path, glaring. She steps to the other side and again tries to go forward but he blocks her, this time stepping forward and knocking her books down.

“What the fuck!” Erica bends down and grabs at the books angrily. “You’re such a freak, you know that?” She is about to say more when she feels something hard and cold being pushed against the top of her head; she slowly looks up and can see the barrel of a pistol aiming straight at her face. “Matt,” she says, her voice small and shaky, “what are you doing?”

“I’m a freak, huh? I’m a nobody, huh?” He roughly pushes the pistol harder against her skull; she let’s out a strangled noise of fear as his other hand grabs her arm and yanks her to her feet. “You stopped hanging out with me because what, you grew some tits? Got a new wardrobe? That doesn’t make you better than me.”

“Matt, listen,” she says, feeling her knees wobbling underneath her.

“No, you listen!” He shouts as he lurches forward, hand gripping the back of her hair and holding her face in place as the gun is aimed at the dead center of her forehead. “I did nothing! So I like Allison? So I take a few pictures of her without her knowing? That doesn’t make me a freak. That doesn’t mean everyone in the school can walk all over me, call me names, throw me in a pool.”

“I heard about that,” she says, trying to choose her words as carefully as possible. “I’m sorry, Matt. I wasn’t there. I heard they threw you in and you couldn’t swim.”

“Don’t,” he says, and she can see tears forming in his eyes. “Don’t give me some fake pity. If you were there last week you would have laughed too.”

“No! No, I wouldn’t have.” She can feel tears falling down her cheeks and she doesn’t move a muscle. “We grew apart, yes. But I would have never done something like that, you have to believe me.”

“Why?” He spits the word out as if it’s acid. “Because we used to be friends?”

“Because you know me.” Her heart is banging ferociously against her chest and she is trying to take in steady breaths, trying to seem calm so he won’t shoot.

“I knew you,” he says, turning the gun to side and his arm is shaking and she can see his finger twitching against the trigger.

“Matt, please! You don’t have to do this!” She instinctually puts her hands up to show she won’t try anything. “You can just leave and I won’t tell anyone, okay? I won’t tell!”

“You’re wrong,” he says, licking his bottom lip and squeezing his eyes shut.

“No, Matt!”

Bang.

-xxx-

“Did you hear that?” Lydia asks, sitting next to Isaac in class. “It sounded like a gunshot.”

“Yeah,” Isaac says, his legs stretched out straight in front of him because he is too tall for the desks at the school. “Maybe it was a senior prank? Let off firecrackers or something in the hallway, you know?”

“Maybe,” she says, an uneasy feeling washing over her. “I hope it’s just that.”

“ _Attention Beacon Hill’s High_ ,” the principal’s voice echoes out of the loudspeaker at school. “ _We are on lockdown. This is not a drill. Everyone lock your classroom doors and do not let anyone in. The police have been notified. Until further instructions, I repeat, we are on lockdown_.”

“I don’t think it was a firecracker,” Lydia says, her stomach twisting into knots.

“Lydia,” Isaac whispers, and Lydia can see his knuckles are white and he’s squeezing the desk. “I can’t be here. I can’t…” His breathing starts to come out shallower and Lydia can see his face is flushed. “Being stuck places makes me...I just can’t be stuck. I’m claustrophobic.”

“Okay,” she says, thinking back to all the things she’s read online. “Okay. I read once that you need to just take small breaths, okay? Can you do that?” She watches as Isaac jerkily nods his head, breathing in and out shallowly. “You need to relax, also. Just, Isaac, look at me.”

Isaac turns his head and Lydia can see that there’s sweat on his brow, his eyes wider than she’s ever seen them before and his hands are still gripping the desk.

“I know it’s hard,” she continues, “but just look at me.” Isaac is looking directly at her and she’s nodding, imitating his breathing. “Okay now just try to relax. It’ll help.”

“I can’t,” he breathes out, shaking. “Lydia, I can’t.”

“You can. Once you relax and get your breathing down you and I are gonna talk, about normal things. The weather, the birds perched on the tree outside the classroom window, the fact that after today it’s summer so we can go to the beach or do anything you want.”

“Yeah,” he says nodding and she can see him looking past her towards the birds in the tree, towards the classroom windows.

“See, not so bad, right?”

He gives her a half smile and she can visibly see his shoulders starting to relax down and his breathing beginning to steady.

“So,” she says, “tomorrow is supposed to be sunny with basically no clouds and I’m thinking we should all go out and get some lunch by the beach? Me, you, Jackson, Scott and Allison.”

-xxx-

Allison slowly opens up the locker room door, taking one last look back; Jackson’s pale lifeless body is in contrast of the dark red pool of blood taking form. Gagging, she forces herself to get a hold of her nerves and step out into the hallway, not sure if Matt is actually gone. She doesn’t move, not yet. It’s quiet besides the loud beating of her heart filling her ears; she holds her breath and listens, tries her best to ignore her heart beat and focus on her surroundings. Nothing.

A loud bang echoes off and her hands immediately slap hard against her mouth to keep quiet. Another gunshot, meaning another person hurt, or worse, dead. The thought of staying down in the locker rooms sweeps over her, maybe she’ll be more safe down here since Matt has already been here, maybe he won’t come back. But Allison isn’t one to hide, to wait and hope that everything works out and she sure as hell isn’t going to sit idly by while people she loves are in danger.

With a self assurant nod Allison takes a step forward; her legs are still wobbly but she forces herself to keep going, to move on, try and stop anyone else from getting hurt.

The announcement over the intercom saying the school is on lockdown somehow calms her nerves the slightest because now everyone will stay inside and hopefully no one else will get hurt. At the same time though, it sends an ice cold chill down her spine because now she’s out in the open and no one can let her into the classrooms.

Her phone is in her locker in the main hallway and she knows now she’s going to have to get to it to be able to text her friends, her dad, anyone. She instantly regrets not taking it with her in the morning before swim practice.

As she’s walking down the hallway it all feels different. Everyday she has walked this same way and never once thought that something this horrific could happen, that she would one day be treading with fear down the same walkway. The quietness alone is eerie but the reason behind it makes the hair on her arm stand on end.

With each turn around a corner, Allison’s whole body tenses and her stomach twists around inside her with the not knowing what’s to come. It’s like she’s in a maze for Halloween and at any moment Matt is going to come popping out and attack. Her black boots click with each step and she tries her best to be as light as possible on her toes.

She holds her breath as she makes another turn in the hallway and she sees someone bloodied on the floor; the person’s blonde long hair is hanging in front of their face but Allison doesn’t have to see her face to know, Erica.

“Oh my God,” she whimpers and starts to back up, only to be stopped by something hard behind her. A hand roughly covers her mouth and she feels something cold against her temple.

“Just the person I was looking for,” Matt hisses, his grip so tight around her jaw she thinks it might pop out of place. “You’re coming with me.”

Allison thrashes and tries to scream but his grip is too tight so she stomps her foot down onto his. She feels the gun move away from her and then a sharp pain shoots across her face and her vision tunnels out into darkness.

-xxx-

“Do you think it’s anything bad?” Stiles asks, gnawing at the end of his eraser.

“It can’t be anything good,” Scott says, his hands tapping nervously on the desk. “I hope no one’s hurt, you know?”

“Yeah,” Stiles says as he stops biting on the eraser and his mouth opens wide. “This means my dad is going to come. Maybe he knows what’s up.”

Scott watches Stiles as he grabs his cell phone out of his pocket and starts jabbing his fingers into the keyboard, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth.

“Mr. Stilinski,” Mr. Harris says, “did the rules suddenly change? Did I say you can use your phone?”

“No, but it’s a lockdo-”

“Yes,” Mr. Harris says, walking over to where Stiles is sitting, snatching the phone out of his hand. “Now where does it say we get to text in class. We are still in class, are we not?”

“Are you serious?” Scott says angrily.

“Deadly. Now unless you both want detention, I suggest you stop talking and go back to work.”

Mr. Harris turns around and Stiles points his hand at him, flipping him off.

“Asshole,” Stiles mutters and Scott smirks.

“I heard that. Both of you, detention. I’m thinking you can clean the floors in the classroom with a toothbrush, yes?”

Scott can see Stiles is about to say something snarky back and reaches out, grabbing his forearm. “It’s not worth it,” Scott says, rubbing his thumb on Stiles’ arm. “Come on, last day of school remember? He can’t actually give us detention.”

Stiles nods his head and pats Scott’s hand, “you’re right.”

-xxx-

Allison’s eyes barely crack open, everything’s a blur. There’s a burning pain that starts from the right side of her temple and spreads out like a virus, making her whole face ache. She opens her eyes again, this time trying her best to make out her surroundings. It’s dark and there’s a small line of light directly across from her. Feeling the cold hard surface beneath her, she can at least tell that she’s lying down.

“Finally.” She hears a voice come from behind her.

“Where?” she starts, but realizes as she looks up; the supply closet.

“Get up,” Matt says, nudging her leg with his foot; she doesn’t move. “Get up!” This time he kicks her hard, making her yelp out in pain.

Allison reaches out and grabs one of the metal shelves beside her, pulling herself up. Matt is standing across from her, gun pointed directly at her face. Before she can react, Matt lunges forward, his hand gripping her neck as he slams her against the shelves; her head collides with one of them and she momentarily loses sight of her surroundings before she is violently pulled forward against him.

“This is all I’ve wanted,” he says, running the gun along the side of her cheek and pushing her hair behind her ear. “You and I, together.”

“Fuck you,” she seethes as his grip around her neck loosens, his hands snaking around to the nape of her neck.

“That’s all you have to say to me?” He shakes his head, tongue flicking across his bottom lip. “You think you can just humiliate me at a party and I’m gonna let it go? Let you walk all over me? I want you, why can’t you see that?” His hand closes around a chunk of her hair and he yanks her head back, mouth closed up against her neck, his breath hot and sickening. “I’m better than Scott could ever be.”

“You honestly think I’d ever even consider you?” She forces herself to laugh through the pain, make sure he doesn’t feel like he’s effecting her. “I’m not something for you to have. I’m not this prize for you to take just because you like it.”

“And yet you parade around smiling at me and asking me to come to a party with you,” he breathes out, pulling his face back and glaring into her eyes.

“Is that what you think? That I asked you to come with me?” Anger courses through her bones and she isn’t afraid at this moment; she isn’t going to let him have that satisfaction. “You asked me what I was doing that weekend so I told you I was going to a party, that’s all. You’re the sick bastard who thought that meant you can grab me and try to get me alone.”

“Well you know what they say,” he chuckles, “perception is reality.”

Allison’s hand is by her side and she puts it behind her back slowly, reaching around on the shelf to see if she can feel anything to defend herself with, anything at all.

“You’re sick, you know that?” Allison can feel something against her fingertips and stretches her arm back as far as it can go, trying to get a grip on it.

“Yeah? Well you’re a fucking tease.” He leans in until their lips are almost touching and whispers, “I like a challenge.”

Allison wraps her hand around the object and feels to see what it is, a stapler. She can work with that. Matt’s grip on her hair loosens and he moves it back around front, until his hand is shoved against her neck, choking her.

“Matt,” she says, trying her best to keep her breathing under control. “Stop.”

“Or what?” He puts the barrel of the gun right above her heart. “You’re gonna stop me?”

“You don’t want to do this, Matt.”

“Oh, but I do.” A sinister smile creeps across his face. “Turn around.”

“What?”

“Turn the fuck around!”

He yanks Allison forward and then twists her around, shoving her face first into the shelves. Her already bruised temple slams against it roughly and she shrieks in pain, losing her grip on the stapler. She can feel the gun pushing into her shoulder.

“Matt,” she says through gritted teeth. “Trust me, you don’t want to do this.”

“This is all I’ve been wanting,” he says, and she can feel something wet against her neck. “You even taste like I imagine... delectable.” She gags as she feels his mouth close around her neck, kissing her. “Fuck, I’ve dreamt about this moment, what you feel like, if you’re a screamer, all of it. I bet you like it rough, don’t you?”

“You have no idea,” she says, grabbing the stapler firmly. “Do you like it rough, Matt?”

“You know I do, baby,” he says, nipping at her neck.

“Let me face you then,” she breathes out, trying her best to sound into it. “I like it better when I can see it happening.”

“Oh, you dirty girl,” he whispers into her ear. “It will be my pleasure.”

As soon as his she feels the gun leave her shoulder she spins around and swings her hand as hard as she can, feeling the stapler connect clean in his temple. There’s a loud thwap and Matt falters, throwing his hands up to his head and yelling in pain. Allison doesn’t waste a second, she swings again and hits Matt on the top of his head; he crumples down to the floor.

“You motherfucker,” she shouts, swinging down one more time onto his face. There’s a loud pop and blood pours out of his nose. “How fucking dare you think you can have me!” Her voice cracks and she starts to cry, dropping the stapler on the floor. “How dare you,” she chokes out.

Allison catches her breath and wipes her tears away, backing up into the door. She reaches around and twists the door knob, only it doesn’t turn. It’s locked.

“No,” she gasps, trying to turn the doorknob again. Nothing. “No, no, no! This can’t be happening.” Her breathing is getting more and more frantic as she starts to slam her body against the door. “Help! Someone please help me! Help!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just warning everyone. When I put major character death as a warning I meant it. You have been warned.

“Let me see your phone,” Stiles says, holding his hand out under the desk.

“Don’t get it taken away,” Scott says, reaching into his pocket and placing it into Stiles’ hand, not letting go though. “I’m serious, Stiles.”

“I won’t.” Stiles places his right hand above his heart. “I promise.”

“Fine.” Scott lets go of the phone reluctantly before looking back down at his textbook, pretending to do work. What other teacher would make students do work on the last day anyway? And now, of course, him and Stiles are stuck in the one teacher’s classroom they can’t stand.

Scott peers out of the corner of his eyes and can see stiles tapping away vigorously at his screen, tongue poking out of the side of his mouth. If it were any other time Scott wouldn’t even hesitate to take a marker and poke the tip of Stiles’ tongue, but now is not the time.

“Sent,” Stiles whispers. “Now let’s hope my dad has been practicing and can send back a text faster than a telegram could get to me.”

“Either way,” Scott says, “we’re stuck here.” He ends it with a wink and he can see Stiles’ mouth rise into a smirk.

“You know,” Stiles says, closing his book, loudly. “It’s the last day, what the hell is Harris gonna do?”

“Mr. Stilinski,” Mr. Harris says, glaring from behind a book. “Did I say for you to stop working?”

“No.” Stiles drops his pencil onto the table, smirking.

“Stiles,” Scott says under his breath, “dude.”

“Don’t worry, Scotty.” Stiles stands up and crosses his arms. “What are you gonna do, Harris? Send me to the principal? We’re on a lockdown.”

Scott watches Mr. Harris as he puts his book down on his desk, his face deadly serious; Scott can see his cheeks are getting red and he wants to tell Stiles to stop, but at the same time, Stiles has a point. It’s a lock down, something could be really wrong and Mr. Harris is still going to make them work? Even on the last day? It just doesn’t seem fair and truth be told, Scott wants to watch Mr. Harris get his ass handed to him.

“You can’t physically touch me. So what the hell are you going to do? Give me a detention? After today you have no control over me.”

“Mr. Stilinski!” Harris shouts, standing up and slamming his hands down on his desk. “Sit down this instant you insolent little bastard.”

“Or what?”

“Or I will send you to the principal’s office.”

Scott’s heart is pounding in his chest and there’s no way Harris is going to send Stiles to the office, not even Harris is that insane. But the look on his face is making Scott really uncomfortable.

“Hold that thought,” Stiles says, pulling out Scott’s phone. “It’s my dad.”

“Give me that phone, now!”

Mr. Harris storms around his desk and Scott watches Stiles’ face morph from a smirk to a hollow face of horror as he sits back down in his chair.

“Stiles?” Scott asks, already fearing the response.

“There’s…” Stiles falters and shakes his head. “There’s a shooter in the school.”

Harris snatches the phone from Stiles’ hand. “What did you say you little-”

“There’s a shooter in the school.”

“You’re sure?” Scott asks, grabbing Stiles’ shoulder, not knowing what to do, what to say.

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” Mr. Harris says, clearing his throat. “I think we all need to just…” He hands Stiles back the phone. “Let’s just not worry and sit through it. You don’t have to work or anything.”

“Thanks,” Stiles says, reading over the message again and handing it to Scott. “Read this.”

 **Mr. S** : _Glad you’re safe. Shooter in the school. Don’t go anywhere in the school. Possibly 2 people shot. Keep you updated. Love you son._

Scott rereads it, feeling his heart starting to pound in his chest while his stomach twists in knots. He’s hoping he’s just overreacting, but for some reason he has this horrific feeling that Allison might be one of the two and that thought tears apart at his insides.

Already tapping away at his phone he shoots Allison a text. A minute passes and nothing. He sends another one, and another one until he clicks call and puts the phone up to his ear. Scott can see Stiles in the corner of his eye and he looks worried as he watches Scott.

It rings four times and then Allison’s beautiful voice fills Scott’s ears and for a split second he sighs out in relief until he realizes it’s her voicemail recording.

“Hi, you’ve reached Allison. I’m not in right now, so leave your name and number at the beep and I will try my best to get back to you.” Scott can hear her giggle and then, “Scott, I’m recording-”

 _Beep_.

He thinks back to when she recorded that voicemail on her new phone. They were together at the park and she had already tried five other times to make sure it turned out well but she didn’t like any of them, so she made up her mind and said that the next one would be her last one. Scott remembers smirking because he knew he would tickle her right as she was ending it just so if she didn’t pick up he could hear her perfect laugh that always makes him smile. Only thing is, this time it isn’t making him feel better, it’s just making him more and more worried.

“Allison isn’t picking up,” Scott says, gnawing on his lower lip. “What if she was one of them? Like her and Jackson during swim practice?”

“Dude, don’t think like that,” Stiles says, grabbing Scott’s wrists and holding it. “She’s fine. Maybe she rushed to class and forgot her phone in her locker? Besides, doesn’t she have class with Lydia right now? Text Lydia. She always has her phone on her.”

-xxx-

Lydia’s phone buzzes on her desk and she turns away from Isaac, who she’s been talking to non stop since the whole ordeal started, trying her best to keep him distracted.

“So what’s your dream house going to look like?” Lydia asks as she grabs her phone and unlocks it, seeing a text from Scott.

 **Scott** : _is allison in class with you???_

 **Lydia** : _no. i havent seen her all morning. is everything okay scott?_

Lydia can feel her stomach drop and as much as she doesn’t want to worry Isaac, if Allison is in trouble she is not going to sit there and do nothing.

Isaac is still explaining his dream house when Scott texts back.

 **Scott** : _she had swim practice with jackson and i dont know if they got back to class or not?_

Jackson is out there too? Lydia makes eye contact with Isaac and he stops talking, furrowing his brow.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Allison isn’t in class and Jackson hasn’t texted me all morning. They were in swim practice together this morning but no one has seen them since. I’m worried…” Her voice breaks and she stops herself before she starts to think of the worst case scenario.

“Oh, my God.” Isaac’s breathing isn’t becoming erratic and Lydia takes that as a good sign. “Text them. I’m sure one of them has their phone on them.”

-xxx-

Allison stops banging on the door and realizes that Matt is going to wake up any second and she needs to get out. She looks down and sees that he dropped the gun when she hit him. She rushes forward and is about to grab the gun when Matt groggily groans and holds his nose where she smashed the stapler down.

“Fucking bitch,” he says, and Allison wastes no time. She has the gun in her hand and is standing above him, pointing it directly at his face.

“How the fuck did you get it to lock?” Her breathing is hitched and she can feel the adrenaline racing through her veins. “Tell me!”

“I have the key,” Matt says smirking. “You think I’d bring you into a room that doesn’t lock? Come on, Allison, I’m not an idiot.”

“Give me the keys!” Allison cocks the gun, her hand is shaking.

“You’re not going to shoot me.”

“Try me.”

Her face is heated and she isn’t sure if she can go through with killing him, but she has no qualms about shooting him in the leg so he won’t be able to chase her. She yells at him again to get the keys and he smirks, reaching behind him.

“They’re in my back pocket.”

Allison watches him closely as his hand moves to his back pocket. Any wrong movement and she will shoot him. A bead of sweat runs down her forehead and into her eye. It burns but she does not move a muscle. She will not let him hurt anyone else.

“I knew you would fight,” he says. His voice sends a chill down her spine and makes all her hairs stand on end. “I didn’t expect you to fight that hard. I figured once I told you I loved you and showed you I was willing to kill for you that you would underst--”

“Just shut the fuck up and give me the key, Matt.”

“Your wish is my command.” Matt slowly stands up and Allison adjusts her aim so it is still focused on him. “Here you go.” He hands her a key and she snatches it from his hand, trying her best not to make any contact.

“Stay right there.”

Allison keeps the pistol aimed at him and pivots so she can reach the door with her left hand. Her eyes are shifting back and forth from Matt to the door until she is able to get the key into the hole. Just one more turn, she thinks, just one more turn and you’re free.

Averting her eyes for one quick second, Allison turns the key in the lock and hears the click. Her entire body eases as she goes to open the door.

“You should have let me finish.” Matt has blood running down his face, his nose is gashed and swollen and purple is already starting to swell around both his eyes.

“Fuck you.”

“Not before,” he says matter-of-factly. “I mean what I was telling you. I told you I knew you would put up a fight. Did you really think I’d only bring one thing?”

Before Allison can understand what he means and react, Matt lashes out with a knife in his right hand. Allison shrieks as the knife slashes across her wrist, causing her to drop the gun. She can feel the warm blood gushing out from her wound and as she looks up from it Matt is directly in front of her.

“Such a shame,” he says as he plunges the knife into her side.

Allison falls into him, the pain shooting through her body like a lightning bolt. She lets out a gasp and screams out in pain as he yanks it out. Her hand automatically slams into her side as she applies pressure on the stab wound. Eyes as wide as can be, Allison falls back against the door and watches as Matt tilts his head and watches her as if he is a kid watching an ant burn under a magnifying glass.

Matt steps forward but before he can attack again, Allison kicks his knee with all her might. Matt lets out a yelp as his leg gives out on him and he falls backward, hitting his head on the shelves. Before she can see if he is getting back up, Allison scrambles to her feet and tries to open the door. The knob keeps slipping in her blood soaked hand and she can hear Matt trying to get up behind her.

“Come on!” She wipes her hand on her pants and tries again, this time the door opens. Without looking back, Allison slams the door behind her and starts running through the hallway. She is not able to run as fast as normal because the pain from her abdomen is slowing her down, but she is charging as fast as she can.

“Help! Somebody help!”

 _Bang_.

Allison ducks as a bullet misses her and hits a locker.

“Come back here!” Matt shouts as he fires another shot.

-xxx-

Lydia hears two more gunshots and then someone screaming for help. She looks around and can see that everyone in class heard it also.

“Everyone stay calm and let’s get away from the door.” The teacher says, standing up and motioning for the kids to move back.

Lydia turns to Isaac and they both listen. Someone is definitely screaming help and Lydia can feel herself getting more and more antsy. How is she supposed to just sit here while someone might die? She can’t.

There’s a banging at the door and Lydia can see Allison’s face. There is blood streaked across her forehead and her eyes are frantic and full of fear.

“That’s Allison! We have to let her in!” Lydia stands up and rushes towards the door.

“Lydia sit down,” her teacher says, grabbing her by the arms. “We can’t let anyone in, you know that.”

“I’m not going to sit idly by while my friend is in danger. Now let go of me!” Lydia yanks her arm away and runs to the door, but Allison is gone.

Isaac is behind Lydia before she realizes it and together they crack open the door.

“Allison,” Lydia whispers, trying not to draw the attention of the shooter. “Allison?”

Lydia steps out fully and Isaac is right by her side. She turns her gaze from left to right but doesn’t see anyone.

“Alliso --”

“Lydia, run!” Allison’s voice echoes down the hall and Lydia can see Matt turning the corner. The door behind her closes and now her and Isaac find themselves stuck in the hallway.

Bang.

Isaac screams out in pain and falls the ground. Lydia grabs his arm and without a thought, she yanks him to his feet and the two of them start running.

“He shot me in the leg!” Isaac shouts, and Lydia can see the blood coming out from his calf. “I can’t run as fast as you. You need to go.”

“I’m not leaving you!” Lydia yells, still pulling him by the arm. Think, Lydia, think.

“Over here!” Up ahead they see Allison standing by a door, waving for them to come over.

“Allison!” Lydia cries out and rushes up to her, slamming her into a full body hug. “Are you okay? DId he hurt you?” Lydia looks down and has her questions answered when she sees the red stained shirt and the blood dripping from her hands.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Allison’s eyes are watery and she blinks away the tears. “We need to keep moving.”

“I can’t.” Isaac says, and Lydia can see that his leg is bleeding profusely now. “You guys run ahead and I’ll hide in here.” He points to the janitor’s closet. “It’s dark and I can hide behind all the supplies.”

“Where the fuck are you guys!” Matt’s voice comes barreling down the hall and snaps them into action.

Begrudgingly, Lydia and Allison agree and each give Isaac a hug. Isaac tells them it will be fine and nothing bad will happen, so long as they keep him out of range of everyone.

“We can do this,” Allison says, grabbing Lydia’s hand. “We can.”

Lydia nods and watches Isaac open up the door, giving them a quick wave before he closes it behind him. Allison starts to run and Lydia takes one momentary pause to think it over but before she has time to object, she can see Matt’s shadow around the corner.

-xxx-

Isaac is crammed in the closet, isolated by complete darkness. All he can hear is the sound of his erratic breathing while his heart pounds in his chest.

“You’re okay,” he tells himself. “You are okay. Just breathe.”

The pain in his leg is getting worse and he can feel the blood still coming out and seeping down his calf. Isaac takes off his belt and wraps it around the top of his calf, tying it as tightly as he can. Hopefully that will slow the bleeding.

Why did he choose the janitorial closet? Any other place would have been fine but _this_? This is awful. His chest is starting to feel tighter and he can’t get as much air in as usual. It feels like he is suffocating. Fuck. He tries to tell himself he’s fine but he can’t seem to stop his body from panicking.

Feeling like the walls are closing in on him, his breathing continues to get more shallow the more confined he feels. He wants to scream and thrash and get out of there but he knows his life depends on it. He will make it through this. He has to.

Isaac hears footsteps outside the door and he smashes his hands into his face to cover his mouth. He is not sure how long it has been but it feels like an uncomfortable amount of time but at this point, his irrational fear of these four walls closing in on him is now overshadowed by the fear of what is waiting for him on the other side of that door.

Listening closely, Isaac can’t hear a thing but his own muffled breathing. The silence is not welcomed however because it’s making him even more anxious. Then there is the sound of a click from behind the door and Isaac can see a shadow form in the crack underneath the door frame.

What feels like an eternity passes before Isaac is forced to watch as the door creaks open and he is now faced with Matt towering above him.

“Isaac,” Matt says, a smile eroding across his face. “Not the person I was hoping for but I can make due.”

“Ple...please.” Isaac can’t get the words out in between the painful need to fill his lungs.

“You know what I’ve come to realize?” Matt squats down in front of Isaac. “People beg for mercy when they know they’re going to die. Did you know that?”

“Matt...I…”

“Oh, shut the fuck up you blubbering idiot.” Matt takes the butt of the gun and smashes it into the side of Isaac’s jaw, slamming his body to the ground. “I know this because I begged for help last weekend at the party while I was drowning. I know this because Erica begged for her life. I know this because Allison begged for her life and now you’re begging. Isn’t that funny?”

Isaac can’t catch his breath and now he’s gasping, desperate for any bit of air to find its way into his chest. The burning pain that his lungs feel is almost as painful as the bullet wound in his leg.

“I’ll tell you why it’s funny, you pathetic asshole.” Matt reaches down and yanks Isaac back up so he is sitting in front of him, then he sticks the barrel of the pistol in his mouth.

Tears are streaming down Isaac’s face as he tries his best to keep breathing.

“It’s funny because you all walk around school like you are immortal. You fucking jocks get everything and never have to deal with the thought of someone not coming to help. I almost died that night and none of you stopped it! So I want to hear you beg, Isaac. Beg for your pathetic life.”

Isaac lets out the last gasp he can manage and then he hears the gun click and everything goes dark.

 

-xxx-

 

“I’m just worried,” Scott says, running his hands through his hair. “I keep hearing gunshots.”

“I know, Scott.” Stiles pulls him in and wraps his arms around Scott’s shoulder. “We’re all worried, but Allison is tough. There is no way she is even in trouble. She probably stayed in the locker rooms and is waiting it out like the rest of--”

Stiles is cut off by banging at the door. Scott looks up and sees Allison and Lydia frantically banging on the door. Scott’s stomach plummets as he kicks his chair out from behind him and rushes for the door.

Mr. Harris stands up but Scott is already past him and to the door. Without hesitation he opens the door and Allison steps in. Lydia is right behind her and is taking a step into the door when a bullet shoots through the back of her head and explodes out the front of her face, blood spraying all over Scott.

Scott stumbles back in shock, blinking over and over again and watches as Lydia’s body falls face first into the tile floor, making a loud thud as a pool of blood circles around her. Half of Lydia’s body is still outside of the classroom and the door won’t close.

“We need to move her,” Allison says, her face completely lifeless as she stares down at Lydia’s corpse. “Scott, Stiles, we need to…” Allison gags and falls to the floor crying.

“Stiles,” Scott says, trying to keep it together for his friends and himself. “Grab one arm and I’ll grab the other. We have to drag her in. If we go for her legs we could get shot.” Scott watches as Stiles is standing completely still, his head bobbing very slightly as tears fall down his cheeks. “Stiles!”

Stiles snaps out of his daze and nods, reaching down and taking one of her arms. Scott grabs the other and they start to pull. The feel of dragging one of his best friend’s lifeless bodies through a puddle of her own blood makes Scott want to puke. He has never felt this low before, this utterly disgusted with life. Lydia did not deserve that, none of them did.

“Not so fast.” Matt kicks his leg and makes the door swing open. “If anyone so much as breathes I will kill him.”

Scott can see Matt’s gun pointed directly at Stiles.

“Matt,” Stiles pleads, “don’t do this.”

“What makes your life better than the four I’ve already taken today?” Matt is still standing in the way of the door closing. “You of all people deserve this. You think your snarky little shitty humor is funny when in reality Stiles, you’re just a fucking asshole. You make fun of people left and right and everyone brushes it off as you being this funny sarcastic guy, but you’re not. You’re a fucking dick.”

“I know,” Stiles says, holding his hands up in the air. “I know I am and I’m sorry.”

“Matt,” Scott says, stepping forward.

“Don’t move! Don’t fucking move!”

“Okay, I won’t.” Scott also has his hands up. “Matt you can still walk away. You don’t need to kill anyone else.”

“You see the best in everyone, Scott. You really do. Hope that works out for you one day.”

Before Scott can move, he hears two shots ring out.

He looks down at his chest and doesn’t see anything. Looking back up he can see Matt is bleeding out of his chest.

“Suspect is down.” Scott can hear Sheriff Stilinski as he charges down the hallway towards them.

“Scott,” Stiles says. Scott turns to Stiles and can see blood staining his shirt around a bullet wound. “I…” Stiles falls to the floor with a thud and Scott rushes to his side.

“Hey,” Scott says, holding him in his arms. Stiles’ face is ghostly white and Scott can see the bullet hit high on his chest. Scott puts pressure on the wound and smiles down at Stiles. “It’s not bad at all. You’re going to make it, buddy.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Stiles lets out a strangled chuckle. “You suck at lying.”

“I am not that bad,” Scott jokes, applying as much pressure as he can. “Seriously, Stiles, you’re going to be fine. Your dad just got here. There’s an ambulance outside.”

“How do you know?” Stiles coughs and blood pours out of the side of his mouth. “We’ve been in the same room, Scott.”

“I just know.” Scott is trying his best not to break down and cry. He can see the blood is not slowing down and by the looks of it Stiles’ is not in okay shape. Shaking in Scott’s arms, Stiles smirks and makes eye contact with Scott.

“You can cry, Scotty. I know it’s bad.”

“No!” Scott can feel tears falling from the tip of his nose. “You are going to be fine, Stiles. Do you hear me?! Just keep breathing.”

“Stiles?” Sheriff Stilinski comes rushing in and Scott makes room for him to kneel next to his son. “Hey, son. That’s gonna be a pretty awesome scar to tell people about one day.”

“Dad,” Stiles’ breathing is hitched. “Don’t. It’s fine.”

“That’s right,” he says, running his hands through Stiles’ hair. “You’re gonna be fine.”

“Stiles,” Allison says, crouching down and wincing in pain. “If I got stabbed, shot at and almost killed multiple times today, you better fucking make it. Who am I going to ask for help when I’m trying to get Scott gifts? And who is going to help me with writing satire for our senior term paper? You don’t get to die today, okay?” Allison starts to cry. “Not after everything else. We can’t lose you too.”

Paramedics rush into the classroom and make everyone step aside as they kneel around Stiles. Scott has his hands together and he is praying for a miracle. He watches as the paramedics load Stiles onto a stretcher and hook an IV into his arm.

“He’s lost a lot of blood,” one paramedic says. “We need to get him out of here right now.”

Scott is forced to watch as his best friend is taken out of the room and not know if he is going to live or die.

“Everyone,” Deputy Parrish says. “We need everyone to exit the classroom so the paramedics can get the bodies and you all can be brought out to safety.”

Scott takes Allison’s hand and they walk together in silence, neither of them uttering a single word. Scott feels like he isn’t even there. Everything feels like a dream and in any minute he is going to wake up and Stiles will be sleeping on his bedroom floor, mouth half open while he drools. But as reality sets in and he turns around and sees the coroner walking towards the room and sees Lydia’s legs half out next to Matt’s lifeless body, he knows this is something they will never recover from.

All that matter as that moment is getting to the hospital and knowing if Stiles is alive. All that’s keeping Scott going is the hope that his best friend will live through this hell.

[3 months later]

Scott walks out of Ms. Morrell’s office and he does not feel any better. He still wishes he had done more, still wishes he could have saved everyone’s life, even if he knows it would not have been possible.

“Did it help?” Allison asks, sitting outside of the counselor's office.

“I’d be lying if I said yes.” Scott says.

“And we all know you suck at that.” Stiles says, walking around the corner into the waiting room.

“Shut-up,” Scott says, smirking. “How you feeling today?”

“The night terrors have slowed down and my blood is pumping so well that I will most likely never need viagra in my life.”

Scott puts his arm around Allison and Stiles and the three of them walk out into the school together.

“We should have transferred.” Stiles says, turning to look at Scott and Allison.

“No,” Allison says, “Lydia was the top student at this school. We owe it to her to graduate and do well.”

“Yeah,” Scott says, his eyes burning from not wanting to cry. “You think we will ever be okay?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Allison admits, squeezing Scott’s shoulder.

“One day at a time, Scotty. That’s what we have to do. One day at a time.”

**Author's Note:**

> also im on tumblr. ianmillkovich if you want to yell at me


End file.
